


The Loneliness

by iguessitswhatever



Series: A Retelling: Waverly Earp [3]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Fantasizing, Light Angst, Missing Scene, Wayhaught - Freeform, earp sister feels, waverly earp character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25225015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iguessitswhatever/pseuds/iguessitswhatever
Summary: Missing Scene 1x03:Just like her Uncle Curtis, Shorty is gone.  Just like that.  Waverly is finding it more and more difficult to constantly keep the 'Purgatory's Nicest Person' smile on.Shorty's wake is over and Waverly is alone, cleaning up the remains of the gathering - in his bar, wearing a shirt bearing his name.  She needs a break.
Relationships: Waverly Earp & Wynonna Earp, Waverly Earp/Champ Hardy, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Series: A Retelling: Waverly Earp [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806718
Kudos: 53





	The Loneliness

This is not a feeling that Waverly likes to sit in. 

The loneliness.

She spent many of her formative years in it, so she does her best to snuff it out when she feels it begin to creep under her skin. She felt a pang if it the day Wynonna came back, when no one she loved thought to let her know about her sister’s return — including Wynonna — and in every rejected offer to help break the curse since then.

Today though, the loneliness doesn’t feel so petty. Today it feels like grief, but disappointment and resentment lurk in the corners as well. If Waverly hadn’t been out trying to dig up Henry — no Doc Holliday’s — secrets, just to hold that knowledge over Wynonna’s head as some kind of petty I-told-you-so, she could have helped with the actual case at hand; she could have saved Shorty.

Everything lately has seemed intent on breaking her — she’s not even including the demon who was actually set out to kill her — and she’s starting to let it get the best of her. Waverly has expertly crafted her persona so that no one sees the toll it takes, but it’s just too much. It’s easier to push forward, day to day, than feel the overwhelming grief of losing her Uncle Curtis or bear the guilt that it hurts worse than losing her own father and Willa. And It’s far best to remain quiet, rather than speak about any of the negative feelings toward Wynonna’s nonchalance about the curse or doubt that looks like hesitance when it comes to trusting Waverly’s abilities — because, despite the resentment, the idea of losing her sister again is a pain that she knows is much worse than petty disappointment. It’s easier to go through the motions with Champ than having to deal with her non-feelings for him — and even easier to just accept the casual infidelity that happens because Waverly doesn’t and won’t love him.

All of it is easier than being alone.

And as long as she keeps telling herself that she’s fine with Champ’s comfort and attention, she can avoid the new arrival of pressing questions in regards to Officer Haught — thoughts that up until today she had laughed off as dating pool desperation. She could hardly admit to herself that she’d listened to that voicemail more times than necessary, but a woman flirting with her once and calling her — as was her job — another time should not be the thing upending her life at the moment.

But now, as she’s cleaning up after Shorty’s wake and feeling more devastatingly alone than she’s felt in years, Waverly finds herself fighting away the thoughts of her encounters with Purgatory’s newest deputy during the memorial. She tries not to; she tries to think about the curse and the implication of revenants embodying other people, and figuring out more about the Stone Witch, but she finds her mind constantly wandering back to the way her hands had been held, comforted, by Officer Haught.

It’s shameful, Waverly thinks, to be remembering something so trivial. Why does she even care what this new cop does, Waverly doesn’t even know her well enough to think to use her first name; they are mere acquaintances — Waverly should be mourning the loss of someone who was more of a father to her than her own had actually been.

How had everything gone so astray?

She decides to finally call it a day — rather than continuing to stew in fruitless introspection — and leave the rest of the cleaning for the morning. Everyone else had long since gone back home or wherever it was they found solace. Wynonna had left pretty early, clearly upset with Dolls and her own dealings in the day’s events; Waverly tried not to be angry at having been left by her sister again when she feels like she needs her presence most right now, especially because Wynonna clearly had the short end of the day’s deal.

Maybe a long hot shower would help her find her own bit of peace, or at least wash away the feelings that oversaturated her today.

She heads up to her old apartment to find Champ sitting on the floor in front of the bed, playing video games; she had convinced Wynonna that staying there one night would be fine. She didn’t much feel like being at the homestead tonight anyway.

Waverly thinks he looks tired and touches Champ’s shoulder as she passes him, letting him know she’s going to hop in the shower. He barely makes a noise, and Waverly feels another pang of loneliness creep in, but doesn’t quite have the energy to make further conversation.

The close of the bathroom door behind her feels like a finality.

She plops down onto the lidded toilet and rests her head in her hands after unceremoniously dropping her towel on the ground. The tears begin to creep their way up her throat and to her eyes as she pushes out a long, cool breath. Waverly doesn’t even know what she’s crying about at this point, but she feels her body tense with the anger as tears start to fall.

Immediately she stands up to shake out the tension and the anger with it; anger is definitely not something she’s letting in tonight. She turns the water on, letting it warm. The sound is calming, but she still slowly paces the small room.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” She whispers to herself, hoping to regain control of her feelings while she waits. With one final, slow breath she begins undressing for the shower, discarding her clothes in front of the sink as she’s always done.

She notices a small piece of paper shoved underneath the sink cabinet and bends down to get it. It reveals itself to be the business card that Officer Haught had given her when she turns it over in her hand. It must have fallen out of her pants pocket when she’d come upstairs to shower that morning.

Waverly runs her finger down the gentle crease in the middle and across the printed name on the card. Her mouth runs a little dry and she blinks away her brief reverie, remembering the water running for her shower. She sets the business card on the sink gently and quickly finishes disrobing.

The water is hot and immediately soothing; Waverly can’t help but release a sigh as her body relaxes under the stream of water. She turns to wet her hair and loses her focus on any tasks, letting the water just hit and warm her skin as she closes her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her body.

She feels empty. Empty, but not lonely.

Waverly lets the sounds of the water drown out the noises in her brain and her breathing slows evenly. She’s not sure how long she stays like that but when she moves to turn to face the wall of the shower her feet stick slightly to the plastic-y shower floor as she tilts her head away from the water so that it hits the side of her neck and shoulders, feeling the relief in the slight stretch.

Waverly is still.

She’s still as the thought of lips against her neck creep into the quiet of her own mind. Would they be warm and smooth like the water? Would they move across her skin until every inch was touched? Waverly pulls her arms tighter around her own body, imagining how it might feel to be held tighter in those hands. Would they be soft and sure like she remembered from the wake? What would her body feel like against Waverly’s back? Her breasts pressed against Waverly’s shoulder blades. Soft.

Waverly’s arms go a little slack, her head tipping back slightly, imagining how it would feel to lean against those shoulders, how it would feel if Waverly turned toward her face and whispered into hot, wet skin.

“Nicole.”

The sound of her own voice jolts upright, blinking away her fantasy and turning to wet her face under the water to snap herself into reality. She releases a loud sigh and whispers to herself again, “What am I doing?” She rubs at her face briefly, blinking into focus, and quickly goes about washing her hair and cleaning herself. The tension in her body returns and Waverly fights off the angry feeling that wants to seep into her confusion, and she groans at herself in frustration. 

Guilt quickly replaces frustration when she remembers and actually thinks of her boyfriend for the first time that day.

The boyfriend she completely dismissed earlier who had also been through all of the day’s trauma.

The realization hits her that Champ — albeit overbearingly — had sought to comfort her at the wake and Waverly completely disregarded his efforts as nothing more than a minor annoyance; he was trying to be aware and present, and she was being a terrible girlfriend. He’d probably looked so exhausted before because he too had had a pretty terrifying day; he too was mourning.

All of their problems are her fault. He just wants her to love him and, what, she can’t even find it in herself to care?

She does care.

She does.

The grief was just getting the best of her, and her emotions were all muddled and erratic with everything that was going on. Waverly should have been thinking of her boyfriend — she knows she meant to think of him.

She meant to.

Hastily, she gets out of the shower and quickly dries off, avoiding her reflection in the fogged mirror entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks!
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments, or you can say hi to me on Twitter if you'd like: [@NiceNStuff](https://twitter.com/NiceNStuff)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!


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